


the hurt that the head forgets

by lordbirthdayxv



Series: Undernourished Egos [3]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbirthdayxv/pseuds/lordbirthdayxv
Summary: kihyun, the things he does not want, and the things he will not let himself have.
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Series: Undernourished Egos [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116836
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	the hurt that the head forgets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluehelianthus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehelianthus/gifts).



> tw for the use of a homophobic slur
> 
> for my no. 1 anti

Shame.

It floods Kihyun’s head like lava. Trickles down his spine into his groin. He crosses and uncrosses his legs, wilting like a dehydrated flower under Changkyun’s stare. Next to him, Seola laughs at a joke Jooheon has made, blissfully unaware of the stench of humiliation mixed with desire that rolls off her husband in waves. 

“Hey Ki, you okay?”

Nothing would break quite like Changkyun’s neck between his hands, Kihyun thinks bitterly and he forces a smile and stabs his chicken with a fork. Of course it is overcooked. Five years of being a househusband and Minhyuk still manages to fuck up everything he cooks. The others don’t notice, happily eating his food because it’s Minhyuk, the posterchild of human perfection. 

Kihyun’s mouth sours and he pushes his plate away. Seola glances over, her smile tainted with concern, and asks if he is okay. 

Kihyun wishes they would stop asking him that patronizing question. He excuses himself and walks quickly to the bathroom. Hears the scraping of a chair and someone calling his name and hopes it isn’t Minhyuk. If he followed him, Kihyun isn’t sure he would be able to muzzle his irritation. 

He closes the door to the hallway bathroom and takes a deep breath, choking on the yellow. The yellow of the tiles, the towels, the toilet, even the goddamn bathtub. The yellow of Minhyuk’s hair. He pushes down his anger and steadies his hands on the sink. His knees shake and he slides down on the floor, mad with anger and shame. So much shame.

There is a soft knock on the door that he ignores and then it is opening, Changkyun poking his head in. Kihyun looks up and feels the intense desire to bash his skull against the horrible yellow tiled wall. 

“Did you really hate the food that much?”

“Go away.”

Changkyun laughs and lets himself in. Closes the door behind him. Kihyun glares at him.

“What the fuck are you doing-”

“Shut up.”

Kihyun blinks, confusion mixing with irritation as Changkyun crouches down next to him. Tilts his head to one side contemplatively. 

“Couldn’t wait a bit longer, could you?”

Kihyun flushes a bright, angry red. Backs away too quickly and falls flat on his ass. Changkyun laughs.

“Get out,” Kihyun orders, his voice shaking, “Not here. Everyone is-”

“Right outside, yeah I know.” Changkyun’s eyes glisten with malice, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Makes it so much better.”

He leans forward between Kihyun’s open legs and palms his dick through his jeans. Kihyun gasps, eyes wide.

“ _Changkyun_ -!”

He claps a hand on his mouth, quivering uncontrollably as Changkyun unzips his fly and pulls down his boxers. Kihyun chokes on a whine, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid looking at how hard he is. Hard for Changkyun. For a man taking exceedingly perverse delight in tormenting him. 

He hears Changkyun click his tongue mockingly before there is the distinct feeling of callused fingers on his dick. He backs away from it and hits his back against the bath tub but it follows. Every ridge on the skin of Changkyun’s fingers presses into Kihyun’s with the intent to alter its very texture, to press Changkyun’s indelible print onto him. To let sin penetrate his bones.

“Open your eyes.” It is an order but Kihyun won’t obey. Is tired of obeying. Of the boundless control that it wields over him. 

Changkyun knows this, knows Kihyun like the back of his own hand, the hand that tightens painfully around Kihyun’s dick as repeats his words: “Open your eyes, Kihyun.”

And Kihyun does because obedience to this man is woven into his DNA. Changkyun’s eyes are like black holes, no light in them, boring their dead hunger into Kihyun’s. His hand pumps Kihyun’s dick agonizingly slow, unmindful of Kihyun quivering like a leaf in the wind. 

“Look at you, turning to putty in my hands,” Changkyun leans forward and swipes his tongue over the pulse in Kihyun’s arched neck, once, twice, until Kihyun holds his bicep in a bruising grip and opens his legs a bit more. How humiliating, to beg for crumbs like some common whore. Changkyun notices and sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin at the juncture where neck meets shoulder. 

“P-please- I can’t-”

His pleas (what was he pleading for anyway?) dissolve into a moan that he quickly stifles behind his palm, teeth biting down on the tender flesh as Changkyun wraps his mouth around Kihyun’s cock, tongue flicking like a switchblade of heat into the slit. It feels good and Kihyun hates it for that specific reason, hates how his stomach tightens into a vortex of need, body turning into a livewire under the red-hot pulsing heat of Changkyun’s mouth. 

He slides his mouth down the shaft until the head touches the back of his throat and Kihyun keens. Changkyun’s cheeks are hollowed out, his jaw relaxed with the practiced ease of a lover of many years. Kihyun sobs silently as Changkyun sucks the resistance from within him, leaving only the bitter aftertaste of separation and the weight of infidelity. Of sin that shouldn't feels as good as it does. Kihyun thinks of his wife a few feet from the door, laughing with his friends, a hand placed tenderly on her swollen stomach, feels bile rise in his throat as he edges closer to the precipice of sanity. 

He throws his head back, mouth open in a silent scream as he cums inside Changkyun’s mouth, body convulsing with pleasure that leaches it of strength and bleaches his bones to the marrow. Pleasure that Changkyun is kind enough to make him feel now and then.

Changkyun gets to his feet with the fluid grace of a feline, wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. Turns to the sink and begins to wash his hands. Kihyun looks at him through the web of wet eyelashes and tries to slow his racing heart. With lucidity comes shame, followed by horror at the idea of walking out looking like this, like having been pulled and stretched like taffy in Changkyun’s hands. He feels he could die. 

“Hey.” He looks up to see Changkyun next to him, holding the detachable showerhead, and yelps in surprise as he is doused in cold water from chest to pelvis. Changkyun stands up to replace the showerhead and gives Kihyun a onceover, nodding in satisfaction. 

“Poor Kihyun, threw up all over his clothes,” he says derisively as he flushes the empty toilet. Kihyun stares at him in disbelief and opens his mouth to say something but Changkyun cuts him off. “I’ll bring you some of my clothes. I think they’ll still fit.” 

He moves to the door but turns around with his hand on the knob. Looks back at Kihyun with a peculiar sort of contempt that he keeps reserved for him. “What a little slut you are. I wonder how your wife will feel when she finds out you’re a fag.”

“I’m not-”

Changkyun leaves, the door slamming shut behind him with the finality of a verdict. 

Kihyun’s blood pounds in his ears, humiliation bathing him in its filthiness. His skin feels like it is riddled with holes, foul nests of fouler feelings that have burrowed into him and made a home of his body. Water sloshes in his head, every sound garbled noise, Changkyun’s final words swim like carnivorous fish in his mind. 

_Fag._

He sobs into his hands, doesn’t register the patter of feet near him, being scooped into familiar, sinewy arms and being carried out. Someone undresses him and they smell like dried lemon rind, like Changkyun, and Kihyun cries harder as his feverish skin meets clothes that he used to wear. They burn like the acid of old love bottled up, of tears in coal black eyes. 

Most of all though, they burn like the shame of habitual sin, but not bad enough to stop. 

_Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death._

Not bad enough to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ajghar1)


End file.
